The State Of Volunteering

Although I’ve always prided myself on being fairly good at volunteering, it wasn’t until my oldest son Sam started kindergarten that I realized how small potatoes my efforts actually are in comparison to those of a certain type of person. I’m not talking about the Mother Teresa or Jimmy Carter sort of person, either. No, the people I’m talking about are usually only found at suburban elementary schools.

And they’re known as “The Uber Volunteers.”

The first time I encountered this rare breed of do-gooder was at Sam’s kindergarten classroom information night. Most of the parents who showed up for the event were completely thrilled to be there and they were all chomping at the bit to get involved. As soon as the teacher’s spiel about the upcoming school year was over, the excited parents immediately barraged her with questions about what they could do. “Can we help with reading?” they shouted. “Writing? Math? Art? Oh, for the love of God, woman, can we at least take your sweaters to the dry cleaners and clip your toenails on the weekends? Tell us! Tell us! We’re here for you!”

As this strange frenzy continued, I wandered over to the volunteer sign-up sheets the teacher had put on her desk 20 minutes earlier. As I looked through page after page of the various jobs and duties she’d listed, my jaw dropped when I quickly realized that every single position was already taken. Everything from Computer Mom to Literacy Mom to Birthday Mom was gone. Did these jobs come with a staff car and a 401K plan or something? Why didn’t I know about this?

I was just about to write down my self-created volunteer position of either “Chips and Salsa Mom” or “Hey, Kids, Who Wants to Iron My Laundry? Mom” when I noticed the most important page in the bunch. The page that listed the very esteemed position of “Room Mom.” Now from what I’d heard on the kindergarten grapevine, Room Mom was the most crucial, most Queen Bee position of them all. It required tons of time, effort, organization and a willingness to do whatever the teacher asked. Meaning, it was something I’d consider akin to capital punishment. But as evidenced by the manhandled sign-up sheet, there were at least eight women who still thought they were up for the task. Eight. Out of a class of 15 kids. If I had any math skills at all, I’d say that’s around 80%.

As I stared at the names on the list, wondering just who these Uber Volunteers were, my reverie was suddenly interrupted by a sharp voice from behind me. “Hey, you put your name down for Room Mom, too?”

“Excuse me?” I said, turning around to find myself almost nose-to-nose with a very pregnant brunette who was unhappily gesturing to the sheet of paper in my hand. “Me? Room Mom? No, no way! That’s a sucker bet, my friend. Sucker. Bet. Er, what I meant to say was I don’t really have time to be Room Mom this year because of all my other … hospital and abandoned dog things I do … at the soup kitchen … by the refugee camp … with Bono. And the Gates Foundation.”

“Then you mind?” she grunted as she lunged toward the paper, almost sideswiping me with her giant belly as she ripped it out of my hand.

“No, go right ahead. I’m certainly not going to stop you.” As I jumped out of the way, she quickly put the paper on the desk and scrawled her name at the very top of the list, thereby making it look like she was the first person to sign up and not the ninth. Slamming the pen down, she then looked at me with a hard stare. “You’re not going to tell anyone about this, are you?”

“What? Me? Of course not!” I stammered as I looked at her long, sharp fingernails and rippling biceps. True, I was shocked that there was something akin to voter fraud going on in Ms. McAllister’s Panda Room, but I wasn’t going to be the stupid patsy who blew the whistle. No, the last thing I needed was to start the school year with the nickname “The Blonde Narc.” “I guess you must really want that job, huh?” I asked.

“We’ll see,” is all she cryptically said as she waddled away. Probably to go rig an election in Panama or something.

But what that encounter, and the many that have followed it throughout the years, taught me, was that The Uber Volunteer-type of mom takes her school duties very seriously. They don’t miss a single activity or opportunity to help the teacher and they’re always available when the need arises, to the great relief and gratitude of the rest of us. Sometimes this is because they’re Type-A personalities, sometimes it’s because volunteering is the only way they can feel connected to their child who’s now away from them in school all day.

However, I also suspect that sometimes these women do things like elbow their way into the Room Mom job or get into a screaming match with the cotton candy guy at the school carnival because of an entirely different reason. And that reason is that they’re just complete, raging lunatics.

I volunteered to help out in my oldest’s kindergarten class. I never heard from anyone, so I shrugged and went on with life – until Thanksgiving, when I got a call from the PTO asking what I was planning to do for the class Christmas party. Turns out I was made the room mother! Not only did they not tell me, no-one told the teacher, either. I never did have anyone tell me what I was supposed to do in that position, so I wound up spending the rest of the school year trying to avoid the teacher and feeling guilty about not providing her with weekly gift certificates or whatever else the PTO seemed to expect me to do. I have been very careful since then not to volunteer for anything except reading in class (which is coordinated through the teacher, not the PTO). Just to be on the safe side, I haven’t even joined the PTO!

I ran into the uber-mom at my kids’ school one day at the grocery store when our sons were in kindergarten. She said, “Is Sam in the all-day class?” I said no and she said, “Oh, I thought all the special-needs kids were in the all-day class.”

I always had that “Three-kid” excuse…no one ever asked me to do anything, cause I had THREE…
Then once I got a handle on things, I realized…I didn’t want to volunteer. I spend all friggin’ day with children. When I could have a few moments to myself (aka, not going to work, [I’m a teacher]and between the hours of 8 and 2), I sure as shit wasn’t going to spend them with kids.

I used to do the team mom thing until I finally realized – unless they emerged from my very womb I apparently didn’t like kids so much. So I’m always there – games and concerts and parades – but I only volunteer for things I can do at home, like make flyers. And I vote “psycho” for the uber volunteers as well.

To these uber volunteers I say Mazel Tov – I’m headed to the coffee shop. There’s a few in every crowd and I figure if they’re power hungry, have at it – my desire to be involved in every second of my kids’ day peaked when I was their food source and has been in decline ever since. These are the ladies (and men? But you don’t really see that much, do you) who take up competitive crocheting when the kids head off to college.

I have a PTA nemesis that volunteers on a particular day of the week, every week, without fail. Naturally, I make it a point to avoid being in the building when she’s there. However, I’m a substitute teacher and was called in to work with little notice one morning. It was when her child walked into the room that morning that the panic set in. (Shit! What day is it today? It can’t be! Aaaaaagh!). I could not wait to get home and have a glass of wine.

Excuse me….I’m a teacher and I have never seen an uber volunteer in my room! I seem to be the only volunteer in sight. Of course, I teach 6th grade when kids would rather die than have their moms in the classroom. Hey-maybe that’s it! Those darn kids aren’t taking the volunteer notes home! Wait. Maybe I forgot to send them…..

I am not one of those moms. I am the mom who has the song “working mom’s guilt” playing in her head all day while the other moms are volunteering in her child’s school. But I feel great appreciation for those who do. And, I feel I understand them, to some extent. They were lawyers, or marketing whatevers before they had kids, and they just need some venue other than parenthood to show their competency, feel their impact, etc. My motto: Work, it’s cheaper than Prozac.

Oh, Gawd, I am SO glad those days are behind me. I tried one year to help (school library), but the woman who had organized the library when her children were students — and whose kids were now in college — would never give it up and made my life hell. I told the principal when I resigned, and she told ME they’d been trying to get rid of her for years. She ran everything. Crud. Another trip down Memory Lane! I need chocolate.

I Love this Post!!! We have a small PTO at our school & this year, my 3rd childs 4th grade year; finally have met the Uber Mom Volunteer. She is our room mom, volunteers I think every chance she has (probably 5 days/wk) and when planning our fall party calls asks me to bring fruit tray & I did. But when I get there right on time, there is already a fruit tray that she brought, two veggie & meat trays (she also brought one of each) and a Fruit Pizza & the other moms & I are looking around shaking our heads!!! If you are gonna delegate, please let it be delegated-instead I took most of my fruit tray home & served to my family! Crazy Woman!!!

I am a part time working mom of 4 children, 19 yrs, 17 yrs, 10 yrs & 7 yrs–I will volunteer my time at my children’s school & functions as I feel I need too. Makes me want to run when someone asks me why I don’t stick around the girl scout meetings, dance & chorus practices; why don’t you try raising 4 kids & have yourself run ragged, getting them all from point A to point B? (My 7 yr old isn’t even in anything yet!) Thanks, my vent is done!!!

Last year, probably in a fit of “unemployment psychosis,” I volunteered to be both Room Mom and Scout Leader. Then I went back to work. What was I thinking??? This year I’m only Scout Leader and Cooking Teacher for my daughter’s class. On top of working 50+ hours a week. Sleep? Who needs sleep?

This year the Room Mom is one of those fluffy blonde “don’t you just LOVE my new Porsche?” kind of women like Lisa was talking about – delegates you to bring something but it won’t be good enough, so she brings it too, “just in case.” Uh huh. I may not have a new Porsche, but at least I still live in the same house as my husband.

Wow. It’s a whole world of corrupt politics and backstabbing that I never new. The would-be room mom sounds like a mob heavy. Maybe that’s what it is. volunteering mom’s is a mob cover. It’s a good thing you did not become a nark.

1) Our jobs as parents are to help our children grow and leave the nest.
2) One place where they learn about the world outside home is school.
3) If parents are at school, then it becomes an extension of home.
4) Our children never learn about life outside of home.
5) Our children never want to leave home.
6) We have failed as parents.

Therefore, by not volunteering I am ensuring the sane and appropriate development of my child. All those volunteers are irresponsible.

Last year our school had a volunteers breakfast to thank all the volunteers. Volunteers have to sign in and out on computer, and the computer tracks each person’s time logged. There was more than on parent last year who volunteered MORE than 400 hours. FOUR HUNDRED!

I teach high school and I WISH I had that sort of support.
Why do parents stop caring about what happens in their kids high school? Sounds like kindergarten teacher has it made as getting paid to delegate her job to others is awesome. *judging*